


Carpe Diem

by lecherysweet



Series: The Art of Dying Well [2]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Childhood Friends, Established Relationship, F/M, Friendship, Love, Named Main Character (Mystic Messenger), Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 02:18:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18459425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lecherysweet/pseuds/lecherysweet
Summary: Jumin has loved her since he was a teenager. He doesn't know when it happened, honestly. When the ability to know love blooms, perhaps, when the ability todesirecreeps under the skin. What does one say to the threat of losing one's sanity due to sheer want? She has his deepest secrets inside her, placed there over the course of decades, and yet she does not know him. Not like this.Not yet.





	Carpe Diem

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends! As I decided I wanted Ars Moriendi to be rated T, I removed the nsfw scenes and am gathering them here.  
> I am of the opinion that nsfw should be 0 or yolo so I'm rewriting them (as I tried to keep them tame for the main story but found them lacking even with character development since i was being so vague). 
> 
> You don't have to read [Ars Moriendi](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17367518/chapters/40868015), but if you're interested in Vivere & Jumin's relationship outside of the bedroom and the rest of the RFA in this AU, go check it out. If you're here because of AM, this scene takes place after chapter 3 / before chapter 4. 
> 
> I will be following a convention started in the main fic Ars Moriendi: the titles of the chapters will be song titles, and I will include a selection of lyrics that served as 'inspiration' for the chapter. This is not a song fic. It just fits thematically with the rest of the series. You might want to listen to the song while you read! Usually it sets the "mood".

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time.

 

 

> _Can I trust in you if I give you myself?_  
>  _You're the first to know_  
>  _And I've had much to tell_
> 
> _No one's ever gotten to this point  
>  Where we go from here is all your choice_
> 
> _Don't let me down_  
>  _I told you things about me_  
>  _Don't let me down_  
>  _I let you put your arms around me_  
>  _'Cause love is a waste of time if you and I don't do this right_  
>  _Don't let me down_  
>  _And I'll keep you around_
> 
> _—[Don’t Let Me Down (Sabrina Claudio & Khalid)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FCilWGYjUHM)_

 

Jumin watched Vivere as she stretched on his leather sofa. Ice cubes clicked in her glass. The whiskey was a sweeter variety, barley, corn, and rice in a higher ratio than wheat, a Japanese variety, that was smoother, cooler, thinner than a single malt Scotch. Not as smooth as popular American brands that were further flattened with charcoal filtering, not as sweet as Italian varieties aged in wine barrels.

Legs, smoother than the alcohol on her tongue, stretched across the majority of the couch.

This was his third glass of wine. He’d need a whole second bottle before he’d be able to sleep tonight.

The color of her skin was beautiful in lavender. He’d purchased the pair of silk pajamas because color experts say lavender and mint are soothing colors that help one sleep and relax. After long days at the office, coming home tense was normal to him. Who was he to question designers and researchers on what they did every day? And so, he is here, attempting to turn his eyes away from the way her skin warmed with the color.

She was only wearing the top. He, in a moment of sentiment, or what he would rather call ‘resourcefulness’, choose to wear only the bottom. When they were washed, the set would remain together.

He wasn’t sure what he expected having his fiancée stay the night. Surely he thought they would simply talk, perhaps sleep in the same bed, cuddled together. He’d known her his whole life, sleepovers as children ending at ungodly times in the morning, all of them falling asleep wherever they'd sitting and using the nearest limb as a pillow even if it wasn't theirs. He'd held her hair back when she’d gotten too drunk to hold her liquor, had equally slept in her lap in a dorm's bathroom floor. College weekends with her pressed too close and dismissed in the name of latin social dancing, drinking at one of her friend's home when the clubs closed and falling asleep on a their couch, protectively holding her close. Jumin didn’t expect tonight to be any different from any other time they’d slept over each other’s place, except now he was engaged to be married to her.

It had been two weeks. It was too soon. And yet...

The photoshoot was too much.

That was his fault, booking it in the first place. He didn’t have much of a choice, he'd reasoned, though he knew he was just trying to justify it in his mind. When his father bought a jewelry company and dropped it in his lap to fix, his first thoughts were of her engagement ring. And then the idea of the feature, a two-fold purpose: first to accomplish his role as Project Manager, and the other (he had to admit) to show off his fiancée. He would have needed to find models anyway, (even though advertising would have found them perfectly fine), he would have needed to show the world she was his somehow, anyway.

Tonight was her fault.

The fourth glass of wine was replaced with a fifth. That finished the bottle.

Her skin was marked in ink, and he found himself observing the lines and colors of them along her thigh. Unexpected, though he shouldn’t really be surprised. He knew her too well, knew tattoos were the way she reminded herself of the important things, expressed the parts of her words and music couldn't.

The first was a trail of stars behind her ear in colors that represented each member of the RFA. She’d gotten it the moment she turned eighteen and when he’d returned from college he'd fussed at her about the _propriety_ of it. He was sure she told him to ‘fuck off’, though now he realized he deserved more than that small scolding. This tattoo, however, belied the heart of a punk rocker masquerading as a proper young woman.

A chuckle rumbled through his chest, only loud enough for her to notice, getting her attention from her phone with the sound.

When he smoothed his hand over red roses and traced his fingers down the spine of a skeletal torso, she hummed, closed her eyes momentarily. He’d expected the skin to be rough somehow, to be maimed in some way from the rigorous process of pushing ink into the deep layers of the dermis. A heart shaped vial of turquoise liquid sat where the skeleton’s heart would have been, beneath the ribs, slightly left of the spine, held in place with the roses’ thorny vines. A Momento Mori, he realized, permanently set in her skin.

She’d always been attracted to concepts like life and death.

Jumin wondered if his father knew what he’d gotten his son into with this engagement. All he’d understood was that she was Jumin’s best friend, his friend’s daughter, an employee of the company, an asset, overflowing with talent, oozing with potential. She hadn’t lost a bit of the sharp edge she’d developed as a teen, it was only covered over with smiling eyes and a polite mask.

He bent to kiss her knee, hand stroking down the back of her calf. She laughed as if his touch tickled.

“Are there more?” he asked curiously.

“Yeah,” she nodded, pressed the flat of her foot to his chest. “There’s one on each of my ankles. The back.”

Viv drummed her feet against his chest lightly, amusement rising from him in the slightest smile, balancing the wine glass in one hand and lifting each foot one by one to attempt to twist and lift her foot enough for him to see. He had to lean down, and even then he only just spied them upside down, two diamonds of day and night. Day had a shining sun over a field of daffodils, while night used the aurora borealis to illuminate the surface of the ocean.

“There’s a lotus on my back,” she informed him, and he released her so that she could turn around and… remove the shirt.

He took a long drink.

She set aside her empty glass. Jumin waited on bated breath as she unbuttoned the silk nightshirt. It slid down her shoulders before she moved to push it from her. Dark grey eyes followed the folds of the fabric as it fell, piled onto the leather of his couch. Her hands reached back to pull her hair over her shoulders, so long it obscured his vision from her entire back. His eyes, his body, ignored the design and traced the curve of her waist, her spine, the glimpse of her breasts. Red panties sat low on her hips, traced in lace.

The wine glass tilted against his lips again.

At first glance, it looked like a chandelier, flipped and curled between and under her shoulder blades. An all-black tattoo other than the tiny hanging jewels at the tips of chain-like adornments, its detail was intricate, conformed to the shape of her spine.

Hesitating only until she looked back at him and smiled, he trailed his fingers along her spine and the edges of the flower’s petals. “I feel like this design is familiar. It’s not similar to your father’s, is it?”

“I’m surprised you recognize it.”

“Childhood vacations,” he shrugged.

“That’s right. You and Jiji used to get mad cause Dad would slap you guys with wet towels in the sauna.”

“It was painful, and sometimes left welts.”

“I remember. He used to do it to me when we went swimming.” She paused, turned to him only slightly with this look in her eyes that was… too much, whatever it was. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“It has,” he agreed, letting a hand circle around her, sitting lightly under her ribs. “Sometimes I wonder if we were meant to be the moment our paths crossed.”

“You’re not the kind of person to believe in fate,” she needled him. He smiled, the little barb was just like her. “Though, I’d like to think we would end up together someday.”

The pair fell silent, tension as taut as a bowstring, his hand on her skin almost burning with the effort it took to control its trajectory. He needed to pull away, besides, his glass was empty now. “I am going to get another bottle of wine. Would you like a refill on your whiskey?”

“You don’t want to do that,” that taunting look spread, lifting the corner of her lips with a smirk as she turned to face him. Her hair covered most of her torso, as long as it was, but clung to the shape of her as it was damp from her shower.

He swallowed and quickly averted his eyes. “I don’t know if I understand your meaning.”

“I mean your dick won’t be able to get hard with all that alcohol,” she answered.

Blunt as ever. His back straightened, wanting immediately to challenge her and the notion that he wouldn’t be able to perform for her. A mixture of playful and competitive joined the smolder of desire that didn’t seem to want to leave his skin. She wasn’t just teasing, at least he supposed by the way she’s was mostly naked and laid out on his couch, waiting for him to do more than rake his eyes down long, perfect limbs. Perhaps he would chance it, meet her boldness with boldness.

He abandoned his quest for wine and returned to her to sate his quest for intoxication.

Jumin met her lips first, kissed her slowly, enjoying the flavor of whiskey on her tongue. Then he adjusted himself closer to her, took her hand to pull it down to his waist, to feel the evidence of his arousal straining against the silk of his pajama pants. She purred, smiled against his lips, squeezed her fingers around his cock just tight enough for him to begin to lose himself. Instead he responded with a pleased hum, skimmed his hands up her sides, just feeling her skin, tendrils of wet hair tangling around his fingers.

Fingertips stroked down the underside of his shaft and he had to suppress a shudder at their delicate touch. “Is this all for me?”

“Yes, my angel,” he didn’t quite whisper, but he felt his voice in his chest rumbling through him. “Everything you want.”

He looked into her eyes, maple-brown that smoldered, smiling at him, inviting him in. A hand cupped her jaw to tilt her mouth to him, biting her bottom lip until she gasped whether from pleasure or pain he wasn’t sure, and to slip his tongue into her mouth, kissing her deep, feeling the press and slide of slick muscle against his. Her mouth fell open to pant hotly against his mouth when she needed to breathe and he dipped to her jaw, trailed his lips to the lobe of her ear, snagged a sapphire earring to tug.

“Tell me what you want,” he demanded from her, hands along her legs pulled her to him as he turned and kneeled on the couch, pressing himself in close to her. Her arms automatically wrapped around his neck, brought him further in, and if he didn’t know before he knew now when she turned that sly smile up to him.

“You, Jumin,” she breathed across his lips, a hand in his hair gripping him tight enough that it would painful to move away.

His fingers clenched in the muscle of her thighs. Her feet hooked at the small of his back, pushed his cock to her warm belly. With the leverage his hands had on her legs, he lifted her up, propped her up with the arm of the chair.

“I want to taste you.”

Jumin sucked in a breath through his nose, pictures of her mouth around his cock fluttering through his mind that he tried to push away as soon as they came up.

Focus, focus.

“I want to hear you say my name.”

She meant her real name. Vivere was a penname she took on after college, a bit of a barrier between her and the world. 

“I want to feel you inside me.”

There was a moment the rational part of his mind echoed ‘it’s too soon,’ but the twice-fast thump of his heart and rush of blood in his ears refused to allow him to listen. How many times were they in the position where they could have indulged in each other and didn’t for the sake of ‘honor’ and ‘propriety’ and other bullshit notions of purity? For how long had he waited for this exact opportunity with this exact woman?

“I will give you that and more, princess,” he lightly nipped the skin in the dip of her collarbone.

“Oh, I hate that nickname,” she laughed softly, letting her head lean back against the arm of the couch. “And please never call me ‘babe’ or ‘jagiya’. It’s so cheesy.”

He brushed her hair away from her body and over the arm of the couch, out of the way, then sat back to look over her, getting to know her this way for the first time. Twenty-something years as best friends and he was learning so much more about her, in so many ways. There was a last tattoo that she hadn’t mentioned, didn’t have the time to mention, at the side of her ribs half under her arm, curving along the shape of her breast. Three delicate flowers in ethereal reverence, as if it was an ode to the beauty of the body it adorned.

Jumin bent down to kiss the bundle of flowers, nose brushing the underside of her breast, forcing him to take a moment to gain his bearings. He followed the curve that seemed to beckon him, sliding his lips up, over the peak of her nipple, already hard from the cool November air not quite resolved by the heater, and pursed his lips teasingly aside it.

“Beautiful,” he tried again, kissing the swell of the alternate breast, his hand joining the other to keep her company, carefully memorizing the shape and feel of her.

“Generic but fine, I guess, especially with the Board of Directors at work and such.”

He chuckled. “Darling?”

“What are we, eighty?”

“Sujin,” he purred her name and she hummed with pleased affirmation.

Jumin returned to her lips to try another.

“Mrs. Han.”

She grinned, unable to hide the blush that spread over her face despite trying, pressing a cheek to his, her voice quieting as if she was telling him a secret. “That’s my favorite.”

“I am happy that you’re mine at last, Su,” he confided, matching her volume. “I’ve never wanted someone else. Not even for a moment.”

“I love you,” she kissed him, slowly, reverently. At some point both of them moved in, arms around each other, holding each other close. She hooked her feet around his back, hands curled around his jaw, smoothing around the crest of his ears. When they parted, he tried to understand what he saw in her eyes, knew them well enough to understand the smallest changes except this one look she so rarely got about her. When she said it again, he understood. “I love you.”

She _loved_ him.

He’d told her several times by now. Perhaps she hadn’t noticed the change from familial to infatuation, perhaps it was because he wasn’t nearly as expressive as most people, perhaps he hadn't shown her with his actions. Perhaps it was because he’d never meant it in this manner for anyone else, no one to watch for reactions. Perhaps it was because it had been years since he’d expressed it to her and she didn’t recognize it anymore.

Perhaps he was being assumptive and she’d realized a long time ago that he _loved_ her. Choose to hand over her heart with her body, trusting him with more than satisfying her.

“I love you, too,” he'd nosed her jaw to push their lips together again, repeating the words only when he was able to mumble them against her lips, that he playfully nipped to bring her back again when she tried to hide, embarrassed. He kissed her until she was breathless while he readjusted himself to stand with her wrapped securely around him.

When he set her on her feet it was a meter from his bed. He moved to the window to close the curtains, then returned to her to kneel to her, hooking his fingers in her panties and looking up at her for permission to remove the last article of her clothing. Upon her nod, he drew them down to her feet for her to step out of, finding them damp. He resisted the urge to plunge his fingers inside her right then and there, to lift them to his face to sample the scent of her arousal, and tossed them aside somewhere neither of them would find in the morning. Instead he stroked his hands up the back of her thighs and pressing a kiss just beneath her navel before turning her to back her up to his bed.

She sat and watched him as he untied the waistband of the silk pajama pants, the loose fabric falling to the floor on its own. Jumin looked down at his cock for a moment, hard as it'd ever been, standing almost upright, the cool air simultaneously stimulating and soothing for his hot skin. When he glanced back up, Viv was staring more openly than he expected (what _had_ he expected, really?), bottom lip under assault from her teeth and his cock looking like... the only way he could describe her eyes was  _hungry_.

A few steps and he was in front of her, she automatically reached for him. He caught her hand before she snapped her eyes up like she’d been caught stealing candy.

“Not tonight, my love, but soon,” he promised.

“But—”

“Slowly,” he leaned down and she took the cue to scoot back. “I want to get to know you.”

“So sentimental,” she teased.

“Is that so horrid?” he laughed, a soft huff against her skin as he slid his hands under her ass to shift her up to the pillows. Then he leaned back to just get a good look at her, spread out on his bed, dark hair spilling over his pillows in inky waves, hands kneading the sheets with anticipation, every inch of her body with blood at the surface, a pink tint coloring her hot skin. Soft blurred patches of swelling quickly forming on her neck, shoulders, breasts, evidence of his kisses marking her skin.

He was more pleased than he should be.

“No, it’s unusual but… I love that you share this with me.”

“I have no reason to hide from you.”

 Jumin had continued his descent down her torso now that he had better access to her, an open mouth kiss over the unblemished breast and down to lave his tongue over, around her nipples, scraping lightly with his teeth to catalogue the sounds of her moans, the angle of the arc of her back when she pressed up to him for more. Equal attention was paid to the other nipple, a gentle bite to the underside of her breast, making her attempt to squirm away.

Down her stomach, reverence seeping into every kiss, the brief thought he kept to himself about children and the wondrous realization that they'd come from her, right here. 

He considered for a moment, weighed his options as he ran his fingers through the soft tuft of hair hiding the slightly swollen folds of her pussy. Considered pressing his lips to her clit, sucking until she came, thighs clenched around his head and screaming his name.

No, too much, too soon. He had to be gentle, he had to keep control, he had to learn her first and foremost, the ways he could push and pull her. Instead he dragged himself back up her body, making sure to savor the feel of skin gliding against skin, to appreciate the so slight sheen of sweat gathering on their skin. It was a comfortable temperature in his home, he'd barely done anything to her, but expectation brought heat with it. His tongue along her collarbone gave him a taste of the saltiness of sweat, one he liked. He wasn't a fan of sweets, after all, preferring salt and spice instead.

Just like her.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he watched her intently as the tip of one finger, carefully searching, parting the folds of her pussy and dragging along the edge of the entrance inside, enjoying the way she hissed and squirmed. He used his weight and leaned just a little more to her, to hold her hips down with his own before he pressed his index finger inside, thumb pressed to her clit.  

“Jumin,” she sighed, eyes fluttering closed.

“Ah, my name is so sweet from your lips.”

It didn’t take much coaxing before he was able to insert a second finger, observed every reaction to every pump (her breath hitched, she bit her lip with sweet hums of praise, ran her hands down his arm as if she didn't know what to do with them, but couldn't keep them still), when he pressed deep and curled them inside, searching for a place he knew would be there and wanted to know its location before moving on. He knew he found it when she flinched and whined, brow pinching. Even so, he stopped, to make sure.

A kiss to the forehead to soothe away its wrinkling. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah— that was—”

He pressed against it again, and she sucked in a breath.

“Shit.”

Jumin hummed. That was good. “Again?”

He hadn’t actually left her the choice. One hand gripped his shoulder, digging in her short nails. “Shit! Jumin!”

A dark chuckle sounded softly in his chest, equally amused and delighted with the way she’d practically scolded him. A third finger slipped in easily now that he'd found the place to focus his attention, and he pressed the heel of his hand to her clit, rocked it against her and leaned just enough weight away from her that he felt her rock back down to meet his hand.

“Jumin, are you really just going to— just—”

“Of course not, I want you to be ready.”

She was breathing harder, let the weight of her head sink into the pillows a bit more, her body pressed up into his, seeking more contact. Staying detached from what he was doing to her enough to focus on pleasuring her was quickly becoming too difficult to bear.

“I’m ready, god, just—" Viv began to get up, and as he was half on top of her, he sat up with her. There was a moment where he was confused, but then she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and shifted her legs to straddle his lap. “This is easier for me.”

Jumin only nodded, chuckled, amused with them both. Viv was not afraid to take what she wanted when she wanted, but was sweet enough to indulge his quest for knowledge, his need to know before taking the next step. A hand wrapped around her back and gripped her underneath, cupping her soaked pussy to hold her back for just a moment. Despite it not being the goal, he took note of the annoyed whine she directed at him, vowed to force her to make the sound again. 

"Just a moment, you're so impatient."

He brought her back to the headboard with him, reaching for the side table and opening the top drawer, pulling out a condom, ripping it carefully with his teeth. She laughed, watched him try to open the packet one-handed. 

"You can tear it like that, then it's useless. I'm on birth control, too, by the way."

"Should I even bother?" The draw of the conversation made him forget his goal of having his hand under her, letting her go so that she could sit on his thighs. 

"I mean, nothing is guaranteed. Using both is always a good idea, if we're really that concerned with kids."

"I presume that I should try to not get you pregnant before our wedding," he huffed, amused. 

"Alright, then, get a new one."

He rose his brows at her incredulously.

"You could've tore it!"

He plucked another condom packet and handed it to her. She looked at him as if she was appalled he'd ask her to open it. "My hands are quite slippery at the moment."

Ah, there was that blush he so loved, eyes dropping to the wrapper and tearing it open. One hand wrapped around his cock and stroked him, base to tip, several times before she began to roll it down the shaft. 

"How old are these things?"

He scoffed. "I bought them when we got engaged."

"Knew you wouldn't be able to hold out, huh?" she teased, leaning forward to kiss him.

Jumin grabbed handfuls of her ass and hefted her up, crossed his legs beneath her, while she took his cock in hand and lined him up to the entrance of her pussy.

"I was expecting it would happen eventually. I thought it would be better to be prepared," he drawled, kneading his hands in her ass to help himself resist the urge just to so slam her down on him. Not wanting to let his pride and dominant tendencies get in the way of her comfort, he loosened his grip as he felt the tip of him sink inside her.

Slowly, so gently. He relaxed and sighed against the headboard, focused his strength in his arms along her thighs and his hands cupping her ass, letting her wiggle and sway herself down his cock. Jumin watched her face contort and inadvertently smiled, knowing that long thin fingers and his thick cock (or by bathroom talk’s standards) was two totally different things. He loved watching her. She would hold her breath for a long time and pause, force herself to breathe, her eyes would flutter, her brow pitch, she held onto him for dear life, used his whole body for support, arms tight around his neck and shoulders.

Then she was finally seated. Jumin stroked his hands up her back and through her hair, kissed her lips softly, brushed hair from her cheeks. He waited for her, soothed her while she got used to him, allowed himself to just enjoy the feel of her, the heat of pressure of being sheathed, a connection that seemed to unbundle complicated knots and lay the thread out straight.

Viv moved, lifted herself and sunk back down, humming with pleasure. He let her guide him, and she gave herself to him, letting him take over when she was comfortable, lifting her with his hands and yanking her hips to his with increasing speed. She moaned and trembled, used his shoulders as leverage to help at one point, and he could feel her slipping under as her legs shook with each rise and fall of her hips.

“Almost there?”

She nodded.

“Let me.”

“Yes.”

He shifted them so that he laid them down, his elbows beside her head, letting his weight press her securely to the bed. Jumin set a new rhythm with a kiss, laved his tongue over her lips, the skin of her neck, gentle nips and little bites, put power behind his thrusts but tempered his speed, attentive to every sound, movement she made under him. He laced their fingers together, holding them tight, pressed them to the bed above her head, leaned his forehead to her forehead. Sweat beaded on his skin from the effort of keeping his release in check when she kept repeating his name, doubling his efforts each time she clenched her legs around him and whined, cursed under her breath, lost the ability to match his thrusts with the rock of her hips and writhed beneath him instead.

_“Jumin…”_

He felt her before he heard her, but it was the way she said his name that brought him over the edge. Pressed deep while she shuddered around him, he tucked his head down into her shoulder and just held her while he crested and came down. For the first time his mind was clear from anything and everything for a few seconds, the constant buzzing of his thoughts silent, sensations (the warmth of her body, the scent of their lovemaking, the taste of her lips, the darkness behind his eyelids, the tingle of his skin) were the only things that had him. It didn’t last long, as it seemed as soon as he breathed a cacophony of thoughts returned, but that moment of peace was…

“Hey,” she pushed at his shoulder. “While I love this, you’re heavy and I can’t breathe.”

With a chuckle he moved from her, removed the condom and dropped it into waste basket under his bedside table. When he returned, he gathered her close, twined them together, pulled the blankets over them despite laying the wrong way on the bed.

She pressed her face to his chest, kissed absently against his skin. “Mm, Jumin?”

“Yes?”

“I keep trying to think of nicknames for you but I can’t.”

“You can call me anything you want. You’ve always called me ‘Juju’, that’s more intimate than anything else.”

“But that’s like, from little kid Sujin to little kid Jumin. And you’re not ‘baby’ or ‘sweetie’ material.”

“I’m not?”

“No way. You’re so much of a man. The strong, silent type. That just seems… degrading.”

“It’s really not that big of a deal.”

“’Handsome’ is good, I guess, but generic and…”

“Anything is fine.”

“Even ‘honey bunny’?”

“Of course.”

When she laughed, he felt it in his soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read over it and tried to edit typos and some other parts to try to have them make better sense. :) 
> 
> p.s. This story is also an exercise in me writing smut cause I feel like I'm bad at it lol, so comment and lmk how I did / suggestions / tips. I would super appreciate it. No seriously. I'm super bad at smut to the point its a bit embarrassing. That's why I'm forcing myself to do this in the first place. Thanks ;D


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